Resonant Frequencies
by TheGirlWhoRemembers
Summary: You can't express everything with words, but somehow, they always seem to mean just that little bit more when they're accompanied with music. Or, a writing exercise in the form of that music-shuffle-challenge, more for myself than anything else, but it might be entertaining…
1. Chapter 1

AN: So, yes, I have been AWOL. Unfortunately, that looks like it's not going to change anytime soon. However, as I've said before, there are many things I want to write, when I get the chance, and for that reason, I really don't want to lose my touch – before I wrote _Paperclip Charms,_ I hadn't written anything in about a year and a half, and getting back into it was tough. So, partially because I find writing really therapeutic (more so than reading, which is why I've still been active in writing, and not so much in reading…sorry, I do really enjoy what you guys all write, I'm grateful that you produce and share it, I just haven't had the time or inclination to read anything, because of the demands of my 3rd year chemistry student life - *sends appreciative and apologetic vibes over the internet*), and partially because I want to keep in the swing of things and not let my writing skills get too rusty, I've given this song shuffle challenge thing a go.

I did cheat a little and I listened to each song twice while doing it, and I did some light editing, but otherwise I fear none of these would make any sense…

I plan to try and write something every single week, even if uni gets crazy (or rather, crazier than it is); so I'll either put up an episode tag, or a new chapter in this collection of flash-fics.

I hope you enjoy!

* * *

 **Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better – Annie Get Your Gun**

* * *

Bozer and Mac exchanged a glance, then turned back to their two friends, who were currently on the edge of the deck area, both hanging from a bar and glaring at one another determinedly.

(Riley was almost certainly going to lose this particular contest to Jack; she might have less weight to hold up, but Jack _was_ ex-Delta Force, after all.)

However, both Bozer and Mac knew that firstly, Jack's inevitable victory wasn't going to be the end of this competition, and secondly, it didn't mean that Jack was going to win this competition. Not at all.

It had started with a little teasing and banter on the plane ride back from their latest mission…and had descended into an absurd competition that Mac and Bozer had been roped into designing.

Some kind of makeshift pentathlon.

The first round was _who has superior upper body strength?_

Round Two was a computer-based challenge.

Round Three was a series of brain teasers prepared by Mac.

Round Four was a marksmanship competition using a couple of Bozer's Nerf Guns (they'd been purchased for a movie project about a year and a half ago, and Mac and Bozer never threw anything out – you never knew when it'd be useful, after all).

Round Five was pie-baking. Bozer had picked that; Mac privately thought that on one hand, it'd be an excellent tie-breaker, since Jack and Riley were both terrible cooks, so it'd be an even contest, but on the other hand, the fact that they were both terrible cooks (he really didn't think either of them could bake a pie successfully) might mean that the whole thing just ended in a tie…

Well, it'd be entertaining at least.

Riley smirked, even as the strain started to show on her face.

'You're going down, old man!'

Jack just smirked right back.

'No, you are, kiddo!'

* * *

 **Roar- Katy Perry**

* * *

She'd been scared before.

She'd been quiet, kept her head down, tried to make herself small.

Hoped, somehow, against all hope, that her dad would not notice her, would leave her alone (wouldn't scream and shout and occasionally throw things near her, far too near her – her mother had never, ever, ever allowed him to do any more, had always protected Riley the only way she could – would always protect her, however she could), if she just made herself as invisible as she could be.

Made herself as small and meek and seemingly not-a-threat as she could manage.

(Maybe she wasn't very good at it. Maybe that's why it hadn't really worked. She couldn't be called meek now, after all. Not in the slightest.)

So she'd stopped.

She didn't know _completely_ why.

Maybe something finally _snapped_.

Maybe it was because of what she'd seen in her mother, that incredible _strength,_ that confidence.

Maybe it wasn't even what she'd seen, maybe she'd been born that way.

She was her mother's daughter, after all.

One day, Riley had stood up.

Looked up.

Spoken up.

Pushed back.

Walked through school with her head held high, even though the other kids said nasty things about her (her thrift-store clothes, her conspicuously single mother, her brilliant mind that she couldn't quite hide behind sarcasm and sass and those walls of hers).

Refused to cower before her father when he showed up the next time.

Started gaining a reputation online (her hacker persona had always been strong, never been quiet, but now that Riley was too, her online persona had a little more strength, a louder roar, too, and others took notice and, slowly and surely, started to look at her in awe, because of what she could do, because of that toughness, that _strength_ , that shown through in everything she did, even as she expertly hid her true identity).

This little girl was growing into a lioness.

* * *

 **On My Own - Les Mis**

* * *

Nikki sighed as she returned to her (new) apartment after yet another long day at the CIA.

She glanced up at the wall at the photos (old photos, memories, her past) that she still hadn't been able to bring herself to throw out.

(And probably, if she was honest, never would be able to.)

It'd been three months since Mac had asked to meet up with her, and told her, once and for all, that whatever they were since Thornton's arrest, since the revelation of everything she'd kept from him, they were over.

For good.

(There'd been a couple of dinners – or lunches or brunches or breakfasts– you couldn't be choosy about date times in their line of work, and no-one in their line of work was all that fussy about labels for meals – and a couple of stolen nights in the intervening near-year, but nothing that really involved them being back _together_ , like they'd once been. Nowhere near.)

She sighed again, put down her purse and keys, kicked off her shoes, poured herself a drink and sank down into her couch.

She'd lied to him a lot.

And she'd hurt him badly.

Both physically and emotionally.

And while she knew how _important_ it'd been that she'd done that (how vital her job had been, and still was), this would be her greatest regret.

She was only almost-twenty-nine, still young, but she _knew_ , deep in her soul and her heart, that she'd never regret anything as much as losing Mac.

She loved him.

Had, through everything.

And probably still would forever, no matter what.

It'd been three months.

She swore, sometimes, in the dead of the night, all alone in her apartment, that she felt his arms around her for just a moment (a ghost of a memory, of sensation), or that she felt him get out of bed in the middle of the night, suddenly struck with an idea, even in his sleep, in his dreams, that he just _had_ to write down or even make a start on (she was dreaming, of course).

She still loved him.

Always would.

There was no-one quite like Angus MacGyver, after all.

* * *

 **America - West Side Story**

* * *

Mac held his hands up in surrender, locking eyes with the young man holding a gun to him.

'I'm sorry that you feel this way. I'm sorry that your life has been tough-'

'You don't know me!' The gun wavered slightly as its holder trembled, ever so slightly. 'You can't possibly understand what I've been through, American!'

Mac nodded slowly. (He had to keep him talking, buy Jack and Riley some time…)

'You're right. I can't understand exactly what you've been through or how you're feeling, but…' He took a deep breath. This kind of thing was always a gamble, but he saw _something_ in this young man ( _boy_ , really, he was only nineteen), saw something in his eyes, and he really, really didn't want Jack to have to shoot him; he'd much prefer to talk him down. 'I _do_ understand what it's like to be different. To be an outcast. To be judged for just being you. For something that you can't help, or change.'

The gun shook just that little bit more, lowered for a moment, then came back up.

'You…I…I know what you're doing!'

Mac nodded again.

'I know what it looks like. But I'm not lying, I promise.'

The boy seemed to hear something in his voice, seemed to, at least for a moment, believe him (because he _wasn't_ lying, _really, really_ wasn't), because the gun lowered again, and the boy spoke, his voice soft and sad and angry.

'…This…this is supposed to be a land of opportunity. A land where anyone can be anything and get anywhere, if they work hard and have just a little luck go their way.' Mac nodded again, silent, as the boy's voice rose in volume again. 'It was a lie! It's all lies! Where have _my_ opportunities been?'

The blonde agent nodded yet again, the sheer _brokenness_ in the boy's voice affirming his earlier decision.

'I love my country, but I know it's not perfect. Far from.' He locked eyes with the boy again. 'But I believe that it's a pretty good place, on balance, and I think there's some really wonderful people doing really wonderful things here. I'm sure you've met some.' The boy snorted bitterly and raised the gun again, but his heart didn't seem in it. Mac continued. 'And most of all, I don't think this is worth throwing your life away…'

* * *

Ten minutes later, Jack, with an armed SWAT team behind him, ready to shoot, burst into the room, only to find the boy restrained with his partner's shoelaces and the young terrorist's homemade bomb disarmed.

Mac had pulled off a miracle.

As usual.

* * *

Later, Jack clapped Mac, who was lost in thought, on the back.

'You did good today, brother. Real good. Kept a kid from going so far into Hell he couldn't find his way back.'

Mac just nodded.

'It was just one kid, though, Jack. How many others like him are out there?'

Jack shrugged, trying for a nonchalance he didn't really feel.

' _You're_ the one with the genius brain, brother.'

Mac snorted, then his face grew more serious, and he pointed at the webpage he had open on his laptop.

 _The Challenger Club._

'I was thinking of volunteering, at least, if I can find the time.'

Jack glanced at the webpage, and then back at the young man he called his brother.

'That's a real good idea, Mac.'

The blonde gave a little smirk.

'I'm told I'm full of them.'

* * *

 **Price Tag - Jessie J**

* * *

Mac shook his head as he opened his email account to find yet another one of _those_ emails.

This one was from Tesla.

Yesterday's had been from SpaceX.

The day before had been Google.

He'd received offers from NASA (both Mission Control and JPL), and one from DARPA, which he'd seriously considered, too.

Not to mention the half-a-dozen PhD places he'd been offered.

This one was very personal. Specific.

Evidently, they'd been watching him.

They were offering six figures, like Google and SpaceX and several other tech firms (and a consulting company – why PwC thought he'd be interested in working for them, he had no idea) had. Very high six figures for an eighteen-year-old graduate, too.

Mac just copied-and-pasted the polite (but generic and firm) reply he'd crafted when these emails and letters had started trickling in, and sent his response.

As soon as it'd sent, he closed his emails, and started filling out his enlistment forms.

Money was a necessity.

Barter was not the most efficient system, and it simply wouldn't function in today's globalized world, with such a large population, such a high degree of regional specificity and specialization and diversification of human capital and the commercialisation of just about everything.

He needed to make _some_ money, of course.

He had to eat, and he had to have somewhere to live, and he did have to buy clothing and pay bills, and he did have healthcare expenses and the like.

But he didn't need that much.

He didn't _want_ that much, really.

And there were many, many things more important than money.

Like saving lives.

And he wanted to be able to do that in the most direct way he could.

(He was an engineer, he liked to be able to do things with his own two hands, and he liked to be able to see results relatively quickly, and easily-measureable results too.)

(Things on the quantum and molecular level were interesting, theory and mathematical proofs were fascinating, but it just wasn't the same…)

(Maybe he could save lives with DARPA, but he'd never see the results in the same way as becoming an Army EOD would allow him.)

The pay wasn't the best, especially compared to the other offers he'd been getting, but, as his grandfather always said, nothing worth buying could be bought with cash.

And his grandfather was always right.

* * *

AN: Yes, I have very odd taste in music. This isn't even an odd selection, TBH...


	2. Chapter 2

AN: I cheated a little with the first one, it took me two plays of the song plus a Spotify ad, but as you'll hopefully see when you read it, I just had to finish that. I also skipped one song because it wasn't in English (Einmal um die Welt by CRO is entirely in German, so…).

Thoughts on 1.19, Compass, are at the bottom of this chapter, with spoilers aplenty.

* * *

 **Wake Me Up – Avicii**

* * *

Jack just shook his head and downed the rest of his beer, standing to buy himself and his brothers-in-arms (they were all on a night out, off base in Germany, and Germans had the _best_ beer) another round.

He was the youngest man on this particular Delta Force team, being only twenty-eight.

His brothers were mostly in their thirties, or even their forties.

Getting on in years, in his mind.

Jones was getting married next month. (They were all invited, of course.)

That had turned talk to finding the right one, getting hitched and getting that house with the white picket fence and bringing a couple of kids into the world.

Jack shook his head again at that thought.

Man, they were all _crazy_.

He couldn't possibly imagine wanting to settle down, wanting a wife and kids and a family. Roots. _Commitment._ Something to tie him down.

He liked being a free man. He (while he never cheated on or lied to any of the women he'd ever been with; they all knew what they were getting into, and wanted it too) was kind of the guy with a girl in every port.

(He was young, handsome, travelled for work all the time, lived life on the edge, with a near-constant hum of adrenaline. Could anyone expect anything different?)

He liked his life very much as it was.

Jones was nuts.

Absolutely off his rocker.

So were all his brothers-in-arms who were talking so wistfully about having a girl back home waiting for them.

He shot his most charming smile at the barmaid, who was wearing a rather fetching dirndl and blonde braids, and deliberately thickened his accent, bringing out that Texan drawl that always seemed to do the trick.

His life was _great._

Why would he ever want anything different?

* * *

Jack glanced around the fire pit as the sun rose.

He, Mac, Riley, Bozer, Matty and Patty had just wrapped up what had to be the most gruelling mission of his entire career.

God, this whole mess with Nikki and her organization and all its twists and turns was still hurting his brain.

He wasn't sure if anyone actually understood everything that had happened.

Not even Mac, with his genius IQ.

He was quite sure they'd all been blindsided.

Even Patty, who never was.

Bozer and Riley were sitting next to each other, very close, with their arms brushing. After a moment, Riley slipped her hand into Bozer's. (To his credit, he didn't make a big deal of it at all, just gave her a small smile, and started rubbing a soothing pattern over the back of her hand with his thumb.)

Mentally, Jack smiled too, despite the fact that he'd warned the younger man that Riley was off-limits.

(Bozer was a great guy. Mac had great taste in best friends, even if he had terrible taste in girlfriends.)

The blonde in question sat on his best friend's other side, hands busy with a paperclip and staring into the distance.

Jack glanced over at Patty, who was watching the three younger agents with a softness in her eyes that he hadn't seen in a long, long time.

Had only seen once or twice, really, in all these years they'd known each other.

He should have never believed that she was a traitor.

He sighed and pushed that regret away. That could be dealt with later (and he'd have to deal with it later, they all did), they'd all been through far too much in the last few days.

Nearly lost each other too many times.

He'd nearly lost his family too many times these last few days. He swore that his hair was turning grey that very moment from the stress.

He kicked himself mentally for sounding like an old man, and then shrugged after a moment.

Maybe it was time to embrace the fact that he was, as Riley and Bozer and Mac were fond of pointing out, the old man of the family.

* * *

Jack had been very foolish when he was young.

But wisdom did come with age.

* * *

 **Hot n' Cold – Katy Perry**

* * *

Nikki crossed her arms and shot him a look.

'Make up your mind, Mac. I can't take this anymore! Sometimes you run hot, sometimes you run cold…look, I know what I did to you.' She sighed and looked down for a moment, biting her lip. 'I'm sorry, but I didn't have a choice.' She looked up into his eyes again. 'I _can't_ keep doing this.' She gestured vaguely into the air. ' _This_ …whatever we are. So make up your mind.'

Mac, too, sighed, and threw his hands up into the air in frustration.

'Nikki…I…I don't know what to do, not when you…' His voice softened, and grew almost regretful and ashamed. 'Not when you've done it _yet again._ ' He didn't have to explain; she knew what he was referring to. She hadn't read him and the Phoenix in on their latest joint (not that they'd known it; they hadn't known the CIA was involved or pulling the strings – a dark voice in her head said _using them_ – at all) op to take down Thornton's mysterious organization, yet again, and maybe it had been a risky plan, but she had _faith_ in Mac, like she'd _always_ had. There'd been no casualties, just as she'd expected. Besides, it had been for the greater good; in the end, maybe a few dozen lives was a fair price to pay…

The two blondes just stared at one another from across the room, trapped at an impasse.

It was never supposed to be this complicated.

It was never supposed to be this hard.

Eventually, Mac broke the silence.

'I'm sorry, Nikki…but I think this is it for us.' He sighed again, fidgeting in his seat. 'I'm sorry…but I don't think I want to see you outside of work again.'

She just nodded, completely and utterly unable to speak.

* * *

(They both waited until they were far out of earshot and sight of the other before they let the tears start to fall.)

* * *

 **I Have a Dream - ABBA/Mamma Mia**

* * *

He was wearing a very smart tuxedo, with Riley in a stunning, slinky red dress on his arm, and Mac, in an equally smart tuxedo, was walking beside him, with Jack on the blonde's other side, complaining about his monkey suit.

Bozer smirked at his teammates, his friends, his family.

'It's Tuesday, so we've got to be taking down an international smuggling run. Or was that Wednesday's mission?'

The super-spy life was pretty action-packed, all the time, after all. Not to mention glamourous.

He'd always wanted to be James Bond.

* * *

Bozer woke up with a start, to find himself in a cramped and smelly surveillance van, with Riley, Jack and Mac.

They'd been more or less stuck in here for three days, running a stake-out.

This had _not_ been in the recruitment brochure.

He smiled a little as he recalled the vestiges of his dream.

He was pretty sure that Mac's grandfather had said something wise at some point about dreams and fantasy and reality, and he was pretty sure that Mac had repeated it to him at some point (probably multiple times), but he couldn't really remember it right now.

Being in the field, as he'd learned in The Netherlands, was nothing like the movies.

But, as he looked around the van, taking in Riley focused on her laptop, with Jack looking over her shoulder and annoying her as usual, the two bantering back at forth, and Mac, who was clearly bored out of his mind (he'd solved that nine-by-nine Rubik's cube that Jack had brought with them, in an attempt to stump Mac, something like eighteen times, and had gone through his entire stock of paperclips), because he was now trying to teach himself Czech using a couple of old newspapers that their last meal had been wrapped in, he thought, with a broadening smile, that even though maybe it wasn't as glamourous or as action-packed as he'd thought it'd be, there was some kind of charm to it.

Everything was always better with friends and all.

Bozer grinned and reached for the Rubik's cube that Mac had long ago discarded.

Maybe he could solve it if he spent the rest of the stake-out on it.

And then maybe he could beat Mac's time, and never let his best friend live it down, if he practiced for the rest of his life.

(A man could dream.)

* * *

 **Somebody - Bridget Mendler, Lemonade Mouth**

* * *

Sixteen-year-old Riley grinned as she read the message from one of her hacker friends (or, from the tone of the message, _admirer_ might be a better term).

She might be that outcast girl with cheap thrift-store clothes and a stand-offish attitude and a too-big-brain at school, she might be that girl that none of the others wanted to be around, but in this world?

She _shone_ , and she was a star, and wasn't it just great, to not be invisible?

To be _wanted_ and vaunted and admired?

* * *

Twenty-two-year-old Riley could scarcely believe her eyes for just a moment (and just a moment, because she _knew_ how good she was, she really did – but still, it was a surprise), as she read the email (encrypted, of course) in front of her.

An invitation from The Collective.

She'd heard stories, of course.

Some thought they didn't exist.

That they were just a rumour.

She knew better.

Always had.

And they were reaching out to her.

Personally.

 _Wanted_ her to be _one of them_ , because she was that good.

She'd never be _that_ girl again.

Hadn't for a long time.

Now, she _shone,_ brighter and brighter and brighter with each passing day.

* * *

Twenty-seven-year-old Riley grinned as she fist-bumped Mac, and then Jack, before pulling Bozer into a hug.

No-one would ever know that they'd been there, or what they'd done.

They were, as far as the world knew, invisible.

They were never here and hadn't done anything.

But she knew better.

They all knew better.

She could see it in her friends', her family's, eyes. They knew what she'd done today, and they were proud of her and admired her skill. They recognized her.

They _saw_ her.

And, somehow, that was all she needed.

* * *

 **Queen of Mars - Candace, Phineas and Ferb**

* * *

Mac just grinned as he walked back to his dorm.

MIT was everything that he'd dared to imagine it'd be.

Better, even.

Better than anything he'd ever dared to dream of.

The students here, they understood him, at least most of the time.

There wasn't exactly anyone _just_ like him here, but there were other sixteen-year-olds, and a couple of people who were even younger, other geniuses and science geeks who got excited by weird things.

And it was just amazing, to be among people who didn't really think it was weird that he'd come up with eight legal uses for body bags and bleach, or who found the notion of a spaghetti machine that made pasta really amusing, or who were interested in understanding the mechanism of the Diels-Alder reaction, or who acknowledged that there were more uses for toasters than making toast or Pop-Tarts.

In fact, some of these people actually thought he was _cool_ , which was really, really something.

MIT was like a whole other planet, and he was very, very glad to be here.

* * *

AN: I'm still trying to work out how I feel about Compass. On one hand, I really did enjoy it, and it was nice to get a glimpse into Mac's MIT days. On the other hand, I don't know, it just felt slightly _off_ for me. (That could just be me and being caught up in uni, TBH.)

Four or five main things:

Mac dropping out of MIT to join the Army. On balance, I think that makes quite a lot of sense (graduating in two years is insane) and Mac's explanation was something I really liked and think was really in-character for him.

The revelation that Mac's grandfather was alive when he was eighteen. When did his grandfather die then? Did Mac actually _say_ at any point that he was dead? (He might have, in Pliers, I don't completely remember…) Maybe Mac's grandfather is _still alive_?

Bozer/Riley development. On one hand, I really love Jack and Bozer's little conversation about Riley. I also really love how Bozer apologized, and how he and Riley are on good terms about it, like really good terms. On the other hand, I do really like them as a couple too…having said that, I am very bad at reading social interaction, so it's possible that they're actually setting up their relationship to move forwards (Maybe a little like in _There's Something About MacGyver…)_ and I'm completely mis-reading it.

Mac's friendship/history with Frankie.

I like Frankie. I find her relationship with Mac to make a hell of a lot more sense and to be more developed than Mac's relationship with his actual girlfriend (or currently ex-girlfriend, I guess). I was a little worried when I heard the premise of this episode that we were going to get another love interest for Mac tossed into the current mess of his love life, but I think it was really nicely handled.

I know Jack said that they were flirting with each other (but did anyone get the sense that maybe Jack was being Jack and that Frankie, while she does really, really care about Mac, still sees him as being a bit of a kid, being five years older and all? I mean, she calls him _boy_ genius…), and there's definitely closeness and history there, but at the end of the ep, and even during it TBH, I kinda got the sense that it's all going to be left in the past for them.

This is probably me being too deep, but I think Frankie in a way represents another possible path for Mac, the one that he nearly took – if he'd stayed at MIT and worked in a lab, instead of dropping out and joining the Army, she's the woman he'd have wound up with (or the kind of woman, anyway), and her kind of life is what he'd have lived, saving people/the world in a different way. Anyway, I don't think she's going to become a recurring character (I can think of two reasons she'd come back. 1. Mac and team need her DNA sequencing technique or 2. Nikki/Thornton/general bad guys kidnap her to get to Mac), and in all honesty, I kinda hope she doesn't, despite my dislike of Nikki yet desire for Mac to not go through life with no chance at the whole girlfriend/wife/kids thing that he has expressed wanting, simply because I think she and Mac, despite what they've clearly got between them, have taken paths and chosen lives that are too different.

I don't know if anyone cares, but Beth Taylor (for those who haven't read my other stuff, she's a genius medical doctor who I created as a team doctor for the Phoenix and as a love interest for Mac; in my most canon-like AU, she and Mac were close friends who met at MIT and Mac cut off contact with her after Pena died) was originally a lot more like Frankie as a character. She was actually originally a biochemistry-botany double major from MIT who researched fertilizer whose life goal was to help feed a growing population in a world suffering under the effects of climate change. I picked that because it was left-field, weird, not all that glamourous, yet very much keyed towards the whole helping-people thing. In the end, I changed it, because I had a realization about Mac. There are many, many other ways of saving the world and helping people than what he does. There are arguably more efficient ways for Mac to do it – you could argue that if he did as Frankie did, maybe he would, in the end, save more lives than he did with his more direct way of doing it. But Mac chose this very direct way of doing it, because he likes to be able to see results, he likes to be able to do things immediately. He's a hands-on kind of guy, not a theory kind of guy. I did originally want to write a scene set in Mac and Beth's MIT days for _Paperclip Charms,_ in which they talk about this sort of thing; a significant thing that I tried to build their relationship on was their desire to use their absurdly brilliant minds to help people and save lives in a very practical, very immediate fashion.

I don't know why in the world I'm rambling on about this, so I'm going to cut myself off now…Sorry for ranting!


End file.
